A Sort of Homecoming
by Morrigana
Summary: When Rose Williams' father brings her back to his childhood home to recover from the loss of her mother, neither of them expect to find a thirty year old mystery waiting for them. Can Rose help the house's unsettled spirit find peace? Bittersweet JS.
1. In the Beginning

AN: I can hear you all now: What about GSTK? Why are you starting another story? I'm sorry, I'm as upset about it as you are. However, this story has been banging around in my head for weeks and it won't let me get anything else done until I write it. It's short and sweet and I'll be back to GSTK soon. It's a little darker than the stuff I usually write, I hope you don't mind, and I hope you enjoy it. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the Labyrinth.

* * *

She opened her eyes for what felt like the first time in a thousand years. How could she have been asleep? She wouldn't have thought it possible, but the house had been empty for so long, and there had been no energy, no fire to sharpen her awareness for such a long time, that she had become as dormant as the house itself. But now she was waking up, her mind was drawing together, and though she lacked the energy to see much on the other side of the veil, she knew there was finally activity in her old home once more.

Men, their bodies a blur of orange jumpsuits and wasted lives, flurried about the house pulling sheets off of furniture and sweeping away cobwebs. There were so many of them, yet their sparks were so dim they barely put out enough energy to thin the veil for her, let alone give her any energy she could use. They made her sick; their hearts still beat yet they were nearly as lifeless as she herself. They had given away their dreams, what use were they to anybody? Still, they were a sign, an omen of things to come. The house was coming alive again, and someone was coming, someone with energy to spare. She could sense it already, still far away but coming towards her, a little closer with every second that passed.

She sighed, taking no note when the orange clad men all seemed to shiver at once, and let her mind reach out to touch the warm little flame that danced so far away in the night. Her mind stretched in tendrils of thought until it found its target, and drew her forward in a cold embrace. Even now, with the other so far away, she could almost taste the energy she would bring, feel the spark of it to the depths of her soul. There was already a connection there, the tenuous bindings of time and blood. She smiled. She could wait, she had waited so long already, what was another day? Soon her suffering would end, one way or another, and she would have peace, and it was that little dancing flame out there in the darkness that would bring it to her.

* * *

Rose stepped out of the car, her neck craning to take in all of the old Victorian house. It was so big! At least four times the size of the apartment her family had shared in the city. She knew she should be excited about it, but these days she found it hard to be excited about anything. "I don't know, dad." She said, as her father stepped behind her. "It's pretty old."

Rose's father ran a hand through his curly blond hair and stared at his old home while butterflies scrambled frantically in his stomach. He had wanted to make a fresh start for them, to take them away from the city where there seemed to be painful memories everywhere they looked. Coming back to his parent's house had seemed like the perfect solution, except now he was confronted by a brand new set of painful memories. He closed his eyes, fighting back the flood that tried to force its way into his mind. It made no difference, he had long ago been doomed to walk in sadness. At least in this place the sadness was his own, and the seventeen year old daughter that was all he had left in the world would not be forced to share them. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be great, kiddo, you'll see." He said with a confidence he didn't feel. "Out here in the country, lots of space to run around in. You'll love it, I promise."

"I don't know…" She said again, turning back to look at him. The grey streaks in his blond hair were set alight by the early morning sun, reminding her just how much he had aged in the last year, and his warm blue eyes seemed to be pleading with her to try, just try. She lifted her chin, doggedly determined to do just that. Squaring her shoulders with resolve, she pulled open the car door and hefted her knapsack onto her back. "Okay." She said, smiling bravely. "Which one is my room?"

Her father smiled, and she cheered inwardly that she had managed even that small achievement. "Well." He said, "The big one with the balcony is mine, but you can have your pick of the other six." There was one more caveat he wanted to make, but he couldn't do so without raising suspicion. The chance that she would choose that room over all the others was slim, it certainly wasn't the best in the house. He could only pray that she would walk past it, and not ask questions when he bolted the door and threw away the key.

"Oh sure." She groused playfully. "You get the balcony." She gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek and turned back towards the house. She saw the strange look in his eyes and a sudden sense of foreboding washed over her bringing with it an irrational urge to turn and run. She clenched her fists to her side and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Well, come on feet." She said, readjusting her knapsack as she took her first tentative steps towards her father's childhood home.

* * *

She's here! If she had still had a heart it would have been beating wildly in her excitement. Already she could feel the energy seeking her out, giving her strength. The veil was becoming thinner, and she could see clearly the activity around her. She couldn't touch anything yet, she couldn't move anything, but that would come in time. She smiled brightly, feeling almost content for the first time in many years. Moving toward the window she watched the car pull into the driveway, saw the girl get out. Her red hair was like fire in the sunshine, a fitting image for one whose inner flame burned so bright. Familiar green eyes looked over the house, making their way to the window she occupied. For one breathless moment she imagined that she had been discovered, but her gaze moved on and she did not seem overly frightened.

She saw the man get out of the car behind her, saw him and ached for him.Oh yes, she knew him. She knew exactly who he was, and mournfully acknowledged the sadness that radiated ahead of his every movement. His sorrow seemed to wrap around him like a force field. He was as dull as the others, his dreams gone as well. But unlike most, he had not thrown his dreams away, they had been torn from him, bit by bit. She grieved for him, and for whatever part she had played in his dreadful sadness. Regret, cold and empty, washed over her, making her feel tired, but she pushed it away, reaching out once more for the bright little flame that even now was making its way up the stairs.

* * *

Rose climbed up the stairs slowly, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't dread, exactly, but a strong sense of something coming. It was as though her entire life had led her to this point, and she stood on the threshold of something big. She tried to push those thoughts out of her mind, and concentrate on her surroundings. Her grandparents' house had been empty for a long time. Her grandmother had died in a car accident when she was a baby, and they say her grandfather had gone mad after that. She barely remembered him; he had died when she was six. What she did remember was that he always seemed very sad.

She supposed it was a Williams family condition.

She remembered very clearly Robert's last visit, shortly before he died. The memory had always haunted her. She was playing Rapunzel in her first grade play, and her mother had made her costume herself, a long flowing blue dress with a pointed blue hat. When it was finished, Rose had put the costume on and come running out to the living room to show it off. She had run in front of the couch where both her father and grandfather were sitting and spun around in a circle. "Look, Daddy, I'm a princess!" She had cried.

With agility that she would never have thought he possessed, her grandfather had leapt to his feet, grabbing her by her arms and pulling the little hat from her head. Alarmed, her father had pushed his way between them, stopping Robert from pulling the dress from her completely, and Rose had crumpled to the ground, confused tears streaking her face. She had watched her father drag Robert away from her, but even from the next room she could hear him screaming.

"She's just like Sarah, Toby! You can't let it happen again! Put a stop to it now!" It was the last time she ever saw her grandfather. Afterwards, she had asked her mother who Sarah was, and Christine had told her that there was no Sarah, her grandfather had made the name up. But she had seen something in her mother's eyes that even at six she had recognized as half truth.

It was all part of the Big Family Mystery. Her mother had always pretended it didn't exist, and her father still did, but she knew it was there. As she reached the top of the stairs the thought suddenly occurred to her that if she was ever going to get to the bottom of the Big Family Mystery, this was the place to do it. After all, what ever it was had probably happened right here.

She stood at the landing for a second, looking over the entrance hall. It really was a beautiful house; her mother would have loved it here. Damn. Thinking of her mother was dangerous territory and she was in no mood to traverse it today. She pushed the thought away and wiped absently at a treacherous tear that escaped its prison, turning back towards winding hallways, wondering which one would lead to her new room. She felt compelled to go down the center hallway, as though something were calling to her. Following her intuition, she made her way down the hall, gasping when it opened up to another landing and another set of stairs. To the left of the stairs was a door, and without hesitation she opened it. She stared at the room beyond in astonishment.

The first thing that crossed her mind was the irrational thought that time had stopped in this room. A canopy bed took up the center of the room, its ruffled covering coated in plastic, as was the bed below it. A dressing table sat to one side of the room, a sheet pulled over the mirror. There were book cases everywhere, and as she absently made her way into the room she ran her fingers over the book bindings. They were mostly fantasy books, a few nonfiction, a book of "Best Loved Fairy Tales." Many of them were books Rose had read several times herself, both classics and less well known stories. She noted with some satisfaction the well worn bindings, as though whomever these books had belonged to had read them several times themselves. Who could have lived in this room? She inspected it a little closer. There were stuffed animals everywhere, posters of eighties rock bands and Escher mazes, barrettes, ribbons, and lipsticks lined the dressing table. A lovely music box sat forgotten on a nightstand, and a strange ceramic figurine of some kind of wild haired wizard sat watching her from a pedestal beside the window. Whoever had lived here was certainly been a teenaged girl. But why leave everything so untouched? Wouldn't she have taken all of this with her when she left?

A strange thought occurred to her then, its origin as much a mystery as the room itself. This was not a place where time had stopped, this was a place where _life_ had stopped. A frozen memorial to a life cut short.

Intrigued, Rose pulled the sheet from the mirror. There were pictures here, stuffed into the wood around the mirror. One or two she recognized as her grandparents, much younger. The rest were just new pieces to the puzzle. One stood out, though, and she pulled it from its place. A pretty dark haired young woman in a long white dress sat in a rocking chair, a rosy cheeked child of perhaps three perched on her knee. Rose felt a pang of sadness at the look on the girl's face, as though she had lost everything she had ever loved. Turning the picture over she gasped. Written in scrawling pen was a phrase that was terrifying in its simplicity: _Toby and Sarah, Christmas 1988_.

"Sarah…" She breathed. So, here it was already, the first piece to unraveling the Big Family Mystery.

She heard her father calling, and scrambled to cover the mirror back up, tucking the picture in her back pocket just as he came through the door. She spun around, feeling as though she had been caught rifling through his things. The look on his face only made her feel worse, as though his worst fears had been realized. She had only seen that look once before.

_ I'm sorry, Mr. Williams. Your wife lost too much blood. Despite our best efforts, we couldn't save her._

_ And the baby?_

_I'm sorry. It's just a matter of time._

"They were supposed to move all of this to the attic." Toby said lamely, his face blank. "It wasn't supposed to be here."

Rose closed the distance between herself and her father, looking at him as though he might break. "Whose room was this, dad?"

He shook his head, his eyes coming back into focus as he looked at his daughter. "No one's." he said "Come along out of here, now. We'll get this stuff cleared out tomorrow." He reached to take her hand, but she pulled away.

"No." She said, her eyes sparking with irrational defiance, "I want this room."

Toby looked at her strangely. "You can't have this room, Rose. There are other rooms, better ones. You can have the room with the balcony if you like, but _not this one_."

"Why not?" She asked. She had no idea why it was suddenly so important that she stay here.

"Because I said so!" Toby said. "That is a good enough reason."

"No, it isn't." Rose insisted. "You said I could have any room I wanted. I want this room. It's mine! Sarah saved it for me!" If Toby was shocked by what she had just said, Rose was even more so. She had no idea why she had said it, or what it even meant, but for some reason she felt the truth in the words all the same. Whoever Sarah was, she felt almost certain that she meant for Rose to be there.

Toby took a step back, as though he had been physically attacked. "How do you know about Sarah?" he asked weakly.

Rose felt sorry for her father, but she couldn't back down now. "I don't know about her, Dad." She said, pulling the photo from her pocket and holding it out to him. "Why don't you tell me."

Toby took the picture from his daughter's hand, clutching the door frame for support. He had not seen her, not even a picture, in nearly thirty years. He closed his eyes and wave after wave of pain washed over him. He had only been four, he shouldn't even remember, yet he remembered everything. The bedtime stories, piggyback rides in the park, the way the sadness in her eyes would almost disappear when she talked about owls and goblins.

And blood. More than anything else he remembered the blood.

"Please." He whispered. "Please, just leave this room and shut the door and forget you ever saw it."

Rose shook her head. "I can't." she said faintly, but still with the edge of defiance. "Don't you understand that I can't? I need to know, dad. I feel like she's been haunting me all my life." It was true, she had felt that way, though she had not understood the feeling until this very moment.

Toby sighed. "She was my sister, Rose. She died when I was four." He hadn't used the word suicide, but somehow she knew, just as somehow she knew that when he winced with his eyes closed he was seeing the blood again.

"You weren't meant to find her." Rose spoke absently, staring at her own hands as she spoke. "She thought you were at daycare, she thought Karen would find her. She never meant for you to see the blood. She loved you." She didn't even realize she had slipped into a trance until Toby's roughly shook her out of it.

"How do you know that?" He demanded, and her tear filled eyes met his.

"I don't know!" she answered truthfully. "Why did she do it, dad? Why did she kill herself."

Toby regarded her for a moment before answering. "Maybe you can tell me." He said, and then cursed himself when he saw her wince. "I don't know, Rose. No one does. She always seemed sad, but no one really knew why."

"But she left a note." Rose said, and though it wasn't a question, Toby nodded as if it had been.

"Yes, she left a note." He confirmed. "But it didn't make any sense."

Rose shook her head, turning away to walk toward the window. She seemed to feel icy fingers on her wrist as she lifted the ceramic statuette in her hands, but the feeling didn't frighten her the way she knew it should. "The Goblin King." She said, almost reverently. "Of everything in this room, this was her favorite."

"Yes." Toby said, his fear giving way to curiosity. "Yes it was."

"_Some choices you don't have to live with_." Rose whispered, and in a heartbeat the fear was back.

Toby took the figure from her hands, tossing it roughly onto the bed, and began pulling his daughter towards the door, but she struggled back with more strength than he would have given her credit for. "I want you out of this room!" Toby shouted.

"No!" Rose pulled her hand away. "That's what the note said, isn't it? Sarah thought it made perfect sense."

"Stop talking like that!" Toby demanded. "You didn't know her; you can't know what she thought." He was trying to convince himself more than Rose.

"I'm sorry, dad. Please, I need to be here. Sarah needs me to be here."

"Absolutely not. This was a bad idea. Get your sack, Rose, we're going back to the city."

* * *

She had been watching, content to see the scene unfold. The girl, her own lovely niece, was so full of energy she had nearly recharged her completely in a few short minutes. Sarah could feel her strength returning. She hadn't meant to cause an argument. If anything the bits of information she had given Rose were meant to comfort Toby. But perhaps there was too much of Karen in him, or maybe he had forgotten how to be comforted. Either way, she couldn't let him take Rose away, not when she was so close. It pained her to do it, but now that she had the strength it was time to take matters into her own hands. 


	2. Red Memories

AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Please continue to read and review. This chapter is actually very dark, so if you're squeamish about such things consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.

* * *

Toby was struggling so hard to drag Rose from Sarah's bedroom, he almost didn't notice the soft moan that seemed to rise up from the center of the house. As it began to get louder, his mind registered it but thought that he was making it himself in his singleminded quest to tear his daughter away. When the moan became a roar, however, and shook the very foundations beneath him, he had no choice but to let Rose go to cover his own ears. Wind began to screech around him, taking his breath away, and he stumbled backward trying to escape it. He reached for Rose, but she stood completely still, not a hair out of place, as though she was not only oblivious to the maelstrom around them, but immune to it as well. He called her name, but she took no note, her face pale and her gaze far away.

Suddenly the wind stopped, the roaring stopped, and for a few seconds an otherworldly quiet descended upon them. Toby tentatively took his hands from his ears, then took a step toward Rose. Before he could take another, he felt the unmistakable sensation of icy hands pressed against his chest. He heard a voice, ghostly yet familiar, screech "Leave her!" just as the hands shoved him backwards through the bedroom door. He scrambled to his feet but the door closed soundly in his face.

Toby stared at the door numbly, his tired mind refusing to accept what had just happened. Ancient memories, memories he had been too young to keep yet somehow had, were screaming through his brain like a steam train despite his best efforts to block them out. He began to pound on the door. "Rose!" he cried, "Rose, open the door!" He screamed her name over and over, his voice becoming hoarse, but there was no answer from inside the room. With tears in his eyes he slid down the door, resting his head upon it as he continued to pound weakly.

Finally, accepting what his heart already knew, he took another tack. "Sarah." He called, his voice pleading. "Sarah, please let her go! She doesn't belong to you, Sarah, she's mine!"

The wind surrounded him again, but it was softer this time, a caress, and with eyes closed he leaned into without thinking. The voice returned as well, also soft and as comforting as a ghostly voice can be. "Shh…Tobes. It's okay. I don't mean to keep her, and I won't hurt her either. Why would I hurt your daughter when I gave up everything to save you?"

Toby opened his eyes, and looked once more on the face that had haunted his dreams since he was a baby. Even as a spirit she was as beautiful as he remembered, and her green eyes still seemed to sparkle with a secret she could never reveal. The emotions were suddenly too much, and though he tried to speak he could only sob out her name. The ghostly image in front him smiled softly. "I promise I'll give her back safe and sound, little brother. I just need to borrow her for a little while." Then she vanished, and Toby was left sobbing on the floor.

* * *

Sarah returned to the room, her gaze falling to Rose, who was slumped on the floor. That last burst of energy to push Toby out of the room had been a bit too much for the girl all at once, and she had passed out. She would be fine, Sarah knew, just a little tired. She felt sorry her, a bit guilty for using her the way she was, but there would be no permanent damage, at it was the only way for Sarah to find peace. She moved to stare out the window once again, as she waited for the sleeping girl to regain herself, and watched as the sun began to set over the horizon. What she would give to be able to feel the cool night air on her cheek once again.

There had been a time when she had been happy here, in this home, in this room. She had been a carefree dreamer, no worries or cares in the world. That had all ended when her mother left her. She had felt her dreams being ripped from her grasp, and she had fought with every ounce of her strength to keep them, to the point that she alienated herself from others to keep them from hurting her the same way. Then her father had remarried, and Karen had tried to make her grow up. She had hated her for that, and pushed her away, as well as her father for bringing the woman into the house. Then there was Toby. Toby was responsibility, and responsibility was the enemy of dreams.

She had made a choice one night, a choice to believe the fairy tales, to put all of her belief into a hope and call that hope to her. It had worked too well, and it had cost her everything.

The Goblin King. She smiled as she thought of him. He had been everything she wanted, everything she needed. All of her hopes and dreams in living breathing form. Heiving breathing form.ded fairy tales, to put all of her belief into a hope and call that hope to He truly had turned the world upside down for her, moved the stars for her. What more could she have wanted? More importantly, he had forced her to grow up, to face that the world was a sad place full of injustice. In the end he had offered her a choice, a terrible choice but the only one he could give her. Her dreams for Toby, his love for her acquiescence, her happiness for Toby's future. It was an unfair choice, but one she had brought upon herself. Though she had hated him at first, she had come to understand that it was her own selfishness that had set the rules to the game, and Jareth had been bound to play by them.

She had sold her happiness, her dreams, her only chance at love to win back the child she had foolishly wished away.

* * *

Toby was slumped against the door. He had heard no sound from Sarah's bedroom in several minutes, but tried to comfort himself that Sarah would never hurt her own flesh and blood. Rose would be alright, he knew, but out here he was facing his own demons. The memories were relentless, and with eyes shut tight and fists clenched, he allowed himself to relive them, the pain as fresh as it was all those years ago.

_Karen opened the door and set the groceries on the kitchen table, while Toby toddled in behind her, a toy airplane gliding through the air as he pursed his lips together to make the propeller noise. "Sarah!" Karen called. "Sarah, I picked Toby up early from daycare, but I have to go back to work for an hour, I need you to watch him, okay?" There was no answer, and Karen stood at the foot of the stares, her hands on her hips. "Sarah Williams, do you hear me?" When she still received no answer she turned around, shaking her head. "Honestly, I don't know what to do with that girl." She complained. " Eighteen years old and still walking around with her head in the clouds."_

_She knelt down next to Toby. "Mommy has to go to work for a little while, blue eyes." She said, pinching his cheeks, Toby wrinkled his nose in distaste and continued playing with his airplane. "Go upstairs and tell Sarah to put these groceries away. Then maybe the two of you can go to the park, okay?" _

_Toby smiled, his eyes twinkling. Going to the park with Sarah was the greatest thing in the world. She would tell him stories, and sometimes they would act the stories out. Then she would ride him around on her back and pretend she was a horsey and he was a knight. _

_Happily, he ran up the stairs, his trusty airplane gliding along beside him, and stopped outside Sarah's door. He knocked on it softly, just like Sarah had taught him, but there was no answer. He knocked a little louder, but she still didn't answer. He began to worry that she wasn't here. He had heard the big door close downstairs and he knew his mother had gone already. Suddenly terrified of being in the bit house alone, he committed the ultimate sin against Sarah. He opened the door without being invited._

_At first, his little mind didn't understand what he was seeing. He giggled, thinking that Sarah was being silly, pretending to sleep on the floor by her dressing table. Then he noticed that her chair was knocked over, as though she had fallen out of it. There was something all over the floor, something red and sticky. It looked like blood. _

_Toby knew what blood was, he had cut his finger once with steak knife and it had bled and bled and bled. At the time he had thought it was a lot of blood, but it was nothing compared to this. _

_Toby felt his fingers go cold, and his stomach felt sick. He was too young to know that the feeling was called dread. He moved closer to Sarah, slowly, and knelt down next to her. She was laying on her stomach, her face turned away from him. As he knelt beside her, he brushed his chubby fingers through her hair. He jumped involuntarily as her head raised and turned weakly to face him. Her eyes were glassy, and there was confusion in her voice when she spoke. "Toby?" she said softly, and then there were tears in her eyes. "Oh no, Toby!" She cried. "Go, baby, get out of here. Go get Karen." Her voice was weaker with each word she spoke, and she struggled fruitlessly to pull herself up from the floor._

"_Mommy's gone." Toby said numbly. "She went back to work. You're supposed to take me to the park." He knew it was a foolish thing to say, but he wanted so badly for her to get up, even if it meant she would be mad at him._

_Her eyes were still full of tears, but they seemed to be very far away now. "Go, Toby." She said, her voice barely a whisper. "Leave and close the door. Wait for your mom to get home."_

"_No, Sarah." Toby cried, his four year old mind only beginning to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. "Get up! Please get up?" It was no use. The light in Sarah's eyes had faded away, he had watched it go. She wasn't moving anymore, and even though he yelled and screamed and kicked she didn't so much as blink. All he managed to do was get her blood all over himself. Finally he laid down next to her, his head resting on her shoulder. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, if he had fallen asleep or had just been in shock, but the next thing he remembered was being cold, very, very cold. _

_He looked at Sarah. She still had not moved, and now her skin was starting to turn blue. His stomach clenched up and threw up, mindful to do it far away from her. He suddenly couldn't bear the thought of seeing her this way another second. He stood slowly and walked toward the door, and then remembered his airplane. He turned and found it, lying in a half congealed pool of blood. With wooden fingers he picked it up and walked slowly out of Sarah's room. He turned to look at her one more time before he closed the door, and her lifeless eyes stared back at him for brief eternity before he walked away._

_He made his way down the stairs, his airplane gliding silently beside him, and heard the front door open. Karen walked in, fumbling to put her keys in her purse, and barely noticed that he was there. "Did you and Sarah have fun?" she asked, not even glancing at him. He just stared at her dumbly. She set her purse down on the counter and turned around, looking at him at last. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand what she was seeing. "Toby, what have you got.." She knelt beside him, seeing the gore caked on his skin and clothing and hair. "Toby, is that blood?" she half gasped, half shrieked. Toby made no sound, only continued to stare wordlessly. "Toby answer me!" she cried. "Whose blood is this?"_

_Toby opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. He tried again but he just couldn't seem to say her name. Finally he pointed up the stairs, and Karen's gaze followed the gesture, her face growing pale as understanding set in. She flew up the stairs, Toby momentarily forgotten, and he slowly followed her. He heard the door being flung open, heard his mother shriek her name, followed by wordless sobs. He reached the top of the stairs and walked to the doorway, leaning against it for support, as he watched his mother cradle Sarah's limp body in her arms, saying her name over and over again as though the repetition would somehow bring her back. Then he slid down the doorframe and sat, Indian Style, just outside the door and went back to playing with his airplane._

* * *

"Why did you do it?" Sarah registered the question with quiet amusement. It was a question she had been asking herself for over thirty years. She turned, her ghostly gaze settling on her niece, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She smiled, gratified to see that the girl seemed unharmed and unafraid.

"You're awake, I see." She said, gliding across the floor. The sun had set and it was getting dark in the room, the only light coming from the moon and from Sarah.

"A little tired, though." Rose answered. "I don't really know what happened." She stood shakily and came face to face with her dead Aunt's apparition.

"I should apologize." Sarah said. "I have to borrow a bit of energy from you in order to manifest this way. That little display earlier used a bit more than I had intended, and you passed out."

"Oh." Rose said, wondering if she should be terrified now. "And what about my question."

Sarah laughed, recognizing that spark of determination and defiance. "You mean why did I kill myself?" she asked.

"Yes." Rose answered. "And what did the note mean."

Sarah turned, gliding back to the window to look out at the moon. For a split second she thought she saw a snow white owl flying against the dark night sky, but knew it was only wishful thinking. "Well." She began. "The first question is easy. I thought If I was dead I could make the pain go away. Instead, all I did was doom everyone I cared about to share it with me."

Rose nodded. "And the second question?"

Sarah turned around to face her neice once more. "Ah, that is actually a very long story." She said softly.

Rose moved to the bed, pulling the plastic covering from the mattress and making herself comfortable on it. "It looks like I have time." She said.


	3. Hope Springs Eternal

A/N: Another short chapter, but the story is almost finished. It was never meant to be very long, and this looked like a good suspenseful place to leave off for now. I hope you are all enjoying this story. I wanted to write something original, I always try to find an angle no one else has used, though there are so many stories out there I guess it's impossible to know that. Anyway, only one more chapter after this I think, and then back to GSTK. Please read and review, it makes my day.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.

"Do you believe in destiny, Rose?" It was a sincere question, though Rose found it laughable. If there was such a thing as destiny, it was a cold bastard that took away the things she loved. It had damned her baby brother to a brief life in a plastic box, and her mother to an early grave. If destiny existed, it didn't deserve her belief.

"No." She answered, not as confidently as she had hoped. "No, I don't believe in anything."

Sarah turned to regard her niece, and amused expression coloring her pale face. "You don't, huh?" She asked, an indulgent smile touching her lips. "I bet you believe in ghosts."

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "I wouldn't have before today." She answered.

"And what other beliefs have you lost that could so easily be remembered if the proof were suddenly standing in front of you?" Rose didn't answer, but Sarah hadn't expected her to. "It's no matter. Destiny exists whether you believe in it or not. It is a part of all our lives. It was destiny that brought you here."

Rose had picked up the statuette that her father had tossed onto the bed. Without knowing why she carefully inspected it for any damage that may have been caused by his abuse. She continued to study the figure, turning it over in her hands as she spoke. "So this was you destiny, then? To die so young and be stuck in this house for decades, just to have a conversation with your teenage niece?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, Rose. This wasn't my destiny. This was my choice. I chose to take my own life, and all the choices that led up to that moment were mine too. I made the wrong decisions, Rose, and I'm paying for all of them now."

"Then what is the point of destiny at all?" Rose asked, laying the statue aside and meeting Sarah's ghostly gaze. "If it was all your decision, what does destiny have to do with any of it?

"Because free will trumps destiny, Rose." Sarah answered, gliding closer to the bed, her iridescent fingertips brushed the discarded idol lovingly. "Destiny will guide us in the right direction, point us down the path we're meant to travel. But if we don't listen, if we allow stubbornness and selfishness to cloud our judgments, we make the wrong decisions, and we end up somewhere we were never meant to go. I chose poorly, and I threw away my destiny."

Sarah's gaze grew far away, and the sadness there brought tears to Rose's eyes. She wiped at them with trembling fingers, refusing to be drawn in, as her thoughts once again drifted to her mother. Had it been her mother's destiny to cross the path of a drunk driver, or was that the other driver's destiny? Or were they the same? Or had the driver of the other car altered his own destiny by choosing to drive under the influence, thus altering her mother's as well?

The speculation was maddening. She had spent countless hours since the accident going over every scenario in her mind, trying to find the one place where something she had done differently might have saved her mother that day. She knew her father had done the same. This new information, the juxtaposition of destiny and choice, was just a new variable in an already endless equation, and Rose found herself clenching her eyes shut to block it all out.

"Jareth." It was Sarah's haunting voice that brought her back to the present, and she opened her eyes to find the statuette floating in the air between them, spinning slowly. Sarah's eyes were closed and a faint and faraway smile graced her lips. Her hand was raised in an odd gesture, no doubt maintaining the figure's levitation. "He was my destiny." She said softly.

Rose lifted her eyebrow, intrigued by these words. Her father had told her bedtime stories of Jareth and his Labyrinth, and she knew that this is who the statuette was meant to represent. The stories Toby told were fantastical and entertaining, and Rose had always thought that they seemed personal, as if her father had first hand knowledge, but she had always chalked it up to his imagination. He was a writer, after all. But was Sarah trying to say the man really existed? "The Goblin King?" she asked finally.

Sarah seemed not to have heard the question, or the thinly veiled incredulity in it. "He found me first." She breathed, and seemed to be talking more to herself than her captive audience. "I didn't know it until later. There was an owl at the park every day that summer. He found me first, and he was waiting. Afterwards, I never saw the owl again."

Rose regarded her aunt strangely. Sarah's voice had taken on a faraway whisper, emphasizing the fact that she was not truly real, not in the same way that Rose was anyway. Rose reached out to stop the spinning figure that still hovered before her. Its eyes were facing her, seemed almost to meet her gaze, and a strange feeling of sadness crept over her. She looked back at Sarah, no longer worrying for her sanity. Suddenly she not only understood her pain, but shared it.

"Tell me." She said simply.

Sarah opened her eyes, and for a long moment she watched Rose carefully. "I can't tell you." She said finally, placing a ghostly hand on the girl's face. "But I can show you."

Rose winced instinctively, expecting the icy touch of dead fingers on her skin. Instead, she was filled with warmth, and a kind of light that seemed to originate from somewhere inside her. Images flashed before her eyes, memories that were not her own. She saw it all as Sarah had seen it, felt what she had felt. The anger, the frustration of a young girl who felt abandoned and misunderstood, the irrational resentment against the child that would grow to be Rose's father. She felt it all culminate into a single moment, a single choice.

And then she saw him. Beautiful and terrifying, a mythical creature made flesh and blood and standing before her. Her heart stood still and beat wildly at the same time, and somewhere she was aware that she was feeling her own reaction and Sarah's as well. He was magnificent and she wanted to run to him, and away from him, but the feet that weren't her own refused to move. Inexplicably she found herself standing up to him, and at the same time longing to touch him. His name washed over her like a warm breeze. "Jareth."

The rest of the story filled her mind, the images marching past relentlessly. She lived the events in her mind as though she had been there herself, and with each new problem felt both her own reaction to it and Sarah's as well. She also began to feel the duality that Sarah had, the driving need to pursue the story to the end, to be the heroine, to save Toby, and the nagging sensation that it was somehow all wrong. Rose grew more an more anxious to know the outcome, but the images stopped abruptly just as she had found herself once more staring through Sarah's eyes into those of the Goblin King. The foreign memories faded from her vision and she was once again in the empty bedroom with only her late aunt for company. "What happened?" she demanded. "How did it end?"

"You know how it ended." Sarah answered sadly. She held up her arms as deep red gashes appeared in the pale skin.

Rose shook her head, no longer sure if the anxious sadness she felt belonged to herself or Sarah. "But how?" she said. "I don't understand."

Sarah sat beside her, the phantom gashes slowly fading. "He was my destiny." She repeated. "I knew it the moment I saw him. It was like finding your way back home after being lost for years, or hearing a song that had been haunting you and you can't remember the name. But I had changed the timeline; I changed our destiny. We weren't meant to find each other that night, while I was still too young to understand what I was feeling. He tried to warn me, and even destiny tried to stop me. I kept forgetting the words, you see. It was the words that ruined everything."

"What words?" Rose asked, frustrated tears streaming down her face as she struggled to understand. She was dimly aware that her emotions were out of control, channeling both Sarah's sadness and her own reaction to it. Sarah's smile was heartbreaking, and she brushed the tears from Rose's cheeks. As she did so, the images resumed.

He stood before her once more, his face a study of pain and sadness. He offered her everything, but the price was too high. It wasn't enough just to deny him, she was the heroine. Everything had to be just so. She fumbled for the words, but they eluded her time and again. She almost didn't say them. She almost stood her ground, insisted that she had won and leave it at that. It would have worked, deep inside she knew it would have, but she was stubborn. She struggled one more time to remember the words and finally they flashed into her mind. She spoke them triumphantly, not realizing until much later when it was far too late the damage she had done. "You have no power over me."

The words echoed around her, weaving themselves into the fabric of reality. The look on his face was proof that he understood what she did not. She had not just defeated him, she had banished him. He could never come to her now as he was meant to, nor she to him. With that one small phrase she had severed the tie that destiny had bound them with, damning them both in the process.

Rose opened her eyes, gasping for breath. Her heart was filled with a terrible emptiness. "You shouldn't have said the words." The words were hollow, sounding too much like and accusation, though she hadn't meant it that way.

"No, I shouldn't." Sarah said simply. If she had taken offence to the implications of the statement, she didn't show it. "All of the mistakes I made that night could have been repaired if I had just been content to win, if I could have left well enough alone. I tried for years afterward to call him, but nothing I did made any difference. I had lost him forever.

Rose wiped stubbornly at her cheeks. "No wonder you were so sad." She said. "I guess when you've thrown away your chance and true love, there's not much left to look forward to."

Sarah had been staring at the ceiling, but with those words her eyes returned to Rose. She hadn't mentioned love; the word had never come up. "I'm glad you understand." She said. "Even if nothing else comes of this, maybe you'll learn from my mistakes."

There was a new feeling beginning to blossom in Rose's heart, one she had been without for so long, for a moment she couldn't put a name to it. The irrational emptiness was quickly and quietly being replaced by and irrational hope. She glanced at Sarah. "What else could come of this, Aunt Sarah? You said before that you needed me. You said it was destiny that brought me here. You drew me to this room. What were you hoping for?"

"Hope…"Sarah sighed. "I don't dare to hope that I could ever make anything right. But if you would be willing to help me, I might at least be able to find some peace."

"I'll do whatever I can." Rose said, an image of herself sprinkling the room with incense and holy water flashing in her mind. "But I'm not a priest or a witch or anything like that."

Sarah laughed. "No, but for what we'll be doing you have exactly what we do need. You're young enough to believe, old enough to understand the belief, and you have enough of your dreams left to power those beliefs. Everything you need to summon the Goblin King."


	4. A Light Shines on the Keep

Disclaimer: I still do not own the Labyrinth. Damn lawyers.

* * *

Rose's eyes grew wide. "The Goblin King? You…you want _me_ to summon him?" She pictured the black clad figure from her visions, and worried that this small room wasn't large enough to contain him.

Sarah cocked her head to the side, taking Rose's hand in her own. "You're not afraid of him?" She asked, not waiting for the answer. "He's the last person you should ever be afraid of."

"Why not?" Rose demanded, annoyed that her irrational fears had been found out. "He's a scary guy. That's what he does. And if all you needed was for someone else to summon him, why didn't you just do that when you were still alive." She was a little put out when Sarah appeared to change the subject.

"Destiny is a lot like us, Rose. She's stubborn, and she likes to have her own way. When her plans are changed, when someone stumbles down the wrong path, it creates a domino effect that could continue on forever if destiny didn't step in to contain it. She moves things around, makes subtle changes here and there. Closes doors and opens new ones."

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, intrigued despite herself. If you're having a conversation with a ghost, she reasoned, you might as well go with the flow.

Sarah stood and began pacing in a way that reminded Rose of her Physics teacher trying to teach the basics of string theory to a bunch of sixteen year olds. "For instance, say two people were meant to find each other, but for some reason that destiny was changed. It would of course affect any children they were destined to have together. But those children must be born, or the effects continue to spread. Therefore, destiny will choose the next most logical place to bring those children into the world, somewhere that will bring the timeline closer to its original path, rather than push it farther away." Sarah looked pointedly at Rose, but her curt nod indicated that while the girl understood the words, the deeper meaning she was trying to convey still eluded her. So she continued.

"Sometimes a person that was meant to die in childhood will live a little longer if it will help to repair the timeline. It's all a means to bring things back to where they were meant to be, Rose. Nothing ever happens that doesn't happen for a reason, even if we can't see it at the time. Eventually, when things are close enough to where they were meant to be, destiny begins to open doors that were closed before."

While Rose may not have been able to grasp everything that Sarah was trying to tell her, she understood the last part clearly. "That's why you want to summon the Goblin King now. It was too soon before, not enough had been repaired. You think they have now, and you want to know what doors are open for you."

Sarah smiled, and closed her eyes as a sudden and unexpected rush of peace washed over her. "I can't be certain, but I have hope. Do you think you can put aside your fear and help me?"

Rose put her chin in the air defiantly. "Tell me what I need to do." She said bravely.

"You know the stories, Rose. All you have to do is wish me away." Sarah told her, gliding backwards and into the shadows.

Rose's brow furrowed in confusion. "That's it? You think that will work? I wish you away, he takes you, and we all live happily ever after?"

From the shadows Rose heard Sarah's ghostly laugh. "It's too late for me to live, happily or otherwise. And no, I don't think he can take me, but I also don't think he can resist a call from you. He'll come; his curiosity will bring him here."

"Oh. Okay then." She didn't really understand, but she thought she should get started before her nerve failed her. Her palms were sweaty, and she wiped them on her jeans before she spoke again. She stood nervously, gave a quick glance toward Sarah who nodded reassuringly, and began speaking clearly into the air. "Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be. Take this..er…aunt of mine far away from me."

She cringed a little as she finished, waiting for him to burst into the room, but the only sound was Sarah's laughter. "Leave it to Toby to tell you the book's version of the wish." She said, still laughing.

Rose threw her hands in the air in defeat. "So what was I supposed to say?" She asked, a little indignantly. Before Sarah could answer, a small voice came from under the bed.

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now, that's not so hard is it?"

Rose blinked nervously, looking around her. She was startled to see traces of movement in nearly every corner of the room. She looked back at Sarah, who only shrugged. Clearing her throat, her gaze directed at Sarah, she spoke once more, this time using the words that had been given to her from beneath the bed. "I wish the Goblins would come and take you away right now!"

Suddenly there was an eruption of movement all around the room. The goblins milled about, attempting fruitlessly to grant the wish. Rose jumped back on the bed and pulled her legs up to her chin, watching in horrified fascination as they met each other in the center of the room, at least two dozen of them, and looked around in confusion. Then in unison they all turned their attention to Rose, shrugged their little armored shoulders, and disappeared. Rose would have sworn she heard a faint "Bye bye pretty lady." as they vanished.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now we wait." Sarah answered.

* * *

It was dark, so dark even the crystal moon above could barely penetrate it. It was always dark in his keep these days, even when the sunlight poured through the windows, and the lone figure at the overlook rarely moved from it, for fear of stumbling in such intense blindness. In his gloved fingers a crystal spun, and though this crystal like all others before it burned brightly with dancing images of life beyond these walls, it was dark to him as well. The crystals never showed him what he wanted to see.

A heavy sigh escaped his thin lips, and he leaned his head back against the stone wall. His labyrinth lay out before him, shining like a gem in the moonlight. It had once been the seat of his pride, his most cherished possession. Now he despised it, as he despised all things that reminded him of _her_. And everything reminded him of _her_.

The dreams had awakened him again. He often dreamt of things that had passed, and of things that should have been. Tonight he had dreamt of the girl; a beautiful red haired girl with her mother's eyes, sitting on her father's throne. Beneath his breath he cursed in seven languages. It wasn't enough that he was denied the happiness that should have been his, but to constantly be reminded of it in his sleep was a torture he could not bear.

He knew he should stand, prepare himself, make himself ready to present the challenge. He had felt the familiar stirrings a few minutes ago, the tug of someone with enough energy to wish someone to him attempting to do just that. She had gotten the words to the spell wrong of course, nearly everyone did at first. But his goblins had hurried to her side to be sure she found the right ones. He could always count on them for that. They were very diligent in that particular duty, perhaps too diligent.

If only he could have stopped them that night, kept them from giving her the words. But it was no use blaming them, no use blaming her. Everything that had happened had been his own fault. Perhaps it was the price of being as powerful as he was, knowing his own destiny before it happened. He couldn't resist seeing the girl long before he should have. And once he had seen her, he couldn't resist giving her the dreams, subtly insinuating himself into her mind.

The book, that damned, cursed book. He had left it for her in the park. He had meant only to say hello, in his own way, to give her a way to get to know him a little before they actually met. He had no idea what his interference would do. It was all his own damned fault, and how he suffered for it.

He had been alone for centuries, millennia, but had never felt lonely. He had known that his heart was meant for someone, and that she would appear eventually, and that had been enough. Now he was still alone, nothing had changed, yet the loneliness and emptiness he felt was unbearable. There was nothing for him now, and no one. The weight of such loneliness was taking its toll on him. He had aged a little more each day since he had lost her. His eyes, which had shone for millennia with power and magic and majesty were now as dim as the crystals he spun.

The Goblin King was dying.

He began to feel the tug again, the call of a wisher. This time she would have the correct words, he was certain. Her voice rang clearly in his mind, and though there was nothing to distinguish it from the thousands that had come before her, something about it caught his attention. A slight tingle at the back of his neck, what was left of his intuition telling him that there was something different about this _one_.

He stood, changing his clothing with a wave of his hand as he climbed onto the ledge of the overlook, preparing to take his owl form. Before he could do so his goblins rushed in the door behind him, and he turned around to glare at them.

"Well?" he asked, hands on hips. "Where is the child?"

"There was no child, Sire." One of the larger goblins answered.

"What do you mean there was no child?" He sighed, over the years he had seen many things wished away, puppies, snakes, a couple of alligators, even a science fair project. They weren't taken, of course, and any subsequent wishes were ignored.

"She uh…she wished away a ghost." The goblin answered.

Jareth raised an eyebrow. This was new. "A ghost?" He asked, genuinely intrigued. "You mean as in an earthbound spirit?"

The goblins glanced around at each other, and when the general consensus was a mass of bobbing heads he answered "Yes, Sire."

Jareth stepped down from the overlook, his hand on his chin. "I see." He said, mainly to himself. Normally he would just ignore the wish. He took wished away children, living breathing children. But if this girl had wished away a ghost, she must be truly frightened, frightened enough to call on the Goblin King for aid. Perhaps for no other reason than this he would have felt compelled to answer the call.

But there had also been something about this wisher that seemed special, now even more so. He felt the tingle at the back of his neck again, and he had the sense that he was standing on the brink of something important. Without a word of explanation to the goblins behind him, he stepped back onto the overlook and jumped off, transforming instantly into a snow white owl and sailing off into the night.

* * *

With the departure of the goblins and eerie silence had crept over the room. Rose was suddenly very conscious of the fact that it had gotten dark and she had yet to turn on a light. And despite the camaraderie that had developed between them, the fact that she was sharing the room with the ghost of a girl who had killed herself over thirty years ago was suddenly very much on her mind. She spoke mindlessly, only to break the deafening quiet.

"Do you really think he'll come?" But Sarah paid no attention. The ethereal light that had at least brought some brightness to the room had faded to almost nothing, and Rose might have thought Sarah's presence gone, if not for the ghostly humming that had begun to fill the room. Rose shivered in spite of herself. The melody was haunting. Though she had never heard it before, some phantom familiarity made her heart ache. For no reason she could think of, she found herself fighting back tears. She shook herself to clear her head. "Sarah!" she whispered harshly.

The apparition began to glow once more, and Rose saw her ghostly eyes open. "Yes?" she asked, as though she had only just noticed that Rose was there. The humming, Rose noted, had stopped.

"I said, do you really think he'll come?"

Sarah smiled knowingly. "Don't you feel it?" she asked cryptically. "The door is opening."

Rose could not deny that she felt something. There was a kind of pull, like the current of an invisible river, flowing just beneath the surface of reality. She tried to understand it, tried to reach out and touch it with her mind, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a sudden storm that had broken the peace of the night sky.

A flash of lighting followed by an ominous roll of thunder shook the house, and Rose could hear the wind bending the trees beyond the window. Suddenly terrified, she screamed at the unfamiliar sound of wings fluttering against glass. Sarah's ghostly eyes sparked in the glare of the storm outside, and her voice was thick with anticipation as she spoke.

"He's here."

* * *

AN: Okay, okay, I lied. One more chapter after this. Just one, and it will probably be short. I hope you are still enjoying this story. Thank you all for the lovely reviews, and please leave another. They make me smile, and lately I haven't had much to smile about. 


	5. The Door Opens

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth.

* * *

Jareth realized where the wish was taking him long before he got there, and it nearly knocked him out of the sky. He had come this way many times, long ago, and could have flown here with his eyes closed. And while he knew from experience that much could change in the mortal world in thirty years, Sarah's home and the land around it seemed almost untouched by time. He felt a strange anticipation growing within him, a bittersweet longing that clutched at him ferociously.

He knew it could not be Sarah that called, the spell cast by her own words had ensured that he could not even hear her if she did. But someone had called him from her house and, as he got closer he realized, _from her room_. It could just be coincidence. Mortals often changed dwellings many times in their lives; Sarah may live far from here now. It could be that someone entirely unconnected to her had taken up residence here.

But that was unlikely. The kind of energy and imagination it took to summon a being from the Underground was rare, and becoming rarer every day. The chances of such a one occupying the same home and not being somehow connected to Sarah were very small. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and struggled to maintain his composure. Regardless of who the wisher was, it was best to do things by the book. He flew to the window, forcing it open with his mind. Just as he flew into the room and began to shift away his owl form, a sudden and terrifying thought passed through his mind. Who was the ghost that haunted this place?

He pulled himself to his full height, his figure casting a shadow against the far wall that even he found menacing. As he always did, he cursed mentally the surge of power that accompanied his arrival and invariably knocked out the electricity. In days of old the candles of a room might be blown out, but a simple wave of the hand would bring them to life again. Yet he had never had the time or the inclination to study the workings of electric lights, and so in these days he was generally forced to make his introductions in the dark.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the dimly lit room, and a cursory glance told him that everything was exactly the same as the last time he saw it. He knew this was not normal; change was an integral part of this world, nothing stayed the same for thirty years. He knew this meant something, something important, but he hadn't the time to think on it now.

He could make out the figure of a girl standing petrified by the bed. She was staring at him with wide eyes, but in the darkness he could not tell if it was him she was afraid of, or the spirit in the room. He could sense the presence of the spirit, but as of yet it had not made itself known. In the half light he could see her cock her head sideways, an innocent gesture whose familiarity knocked the wind right out of him.

"You're really here." She said, her voice full of wonder. "I almost doubted that you were real, but here you are." As she spoke, she moved closer to him, her fear obviously forgotten and replaced by wonder. Another step, and the moonlight caught her hair, setting it ablaze with red fire. A vision from his dreams flashed through his memory: _a beautiful red haired girl with her mother's eyes, sitting on her father's throne_.

The world seemed momentarily to stop, and start once more off balance. No wonder her call had seemed special; this was the child he had dreamed of. Could fate really be so cruel? Had she been given to Sarah anyway, fathered by some simpering mortal? Jareth's stomach lurched, and he fought to keep himself from reaching for a wall to support his faltering weight. It would not do to show such weakness in front of the girl.

She came closer, and he realized he was being inspected. He stood rigid as the girl studied his face in the pale moonlight, her green eyes leaving no doubt in his heart that she was who he suspected. She looked into his eyes, and he saw a wave of sadness pass over her face. Sadness mixed with…was that pity?

"Why have you called me, Rose?" he was somewhat surprised by his ability to speak. Her shimmering eyes snapped back to his.

"How do you know my name?" she asked.

"It was my mother's name." He answered simply, as though that should explain everything.

She shook her head, confusion evident on her face. "No, it was my grandmother's name."

"That's what I…" He stopped himself from finishing the sentence, suddenly confused himself. "You mean your father's mother's name was Rose?"

Rose shook her head again. "No, my maternal grandmother was Rose." She said.

Jareth narrowed his eyes. That made no sense at all. He growled in frustration, chastising himself when he saw the girl jump back. "Tell me your mother's name, child." He demanded.

"My mother was Christine Williams, sir." Rose answered, and then anticipating his next question continued, "My father is Toby Williams." Jareth's mind reeled. Toby? Toby was her father?

_Give me the child you have stolen…_

Jareth did nothing to suppress his laughter at the cruel irony of it. His heir had been unwittingly taken by the child he himself had been forced to steal. But though it was humorous in sickening way, it left one question burning in his mind. Why not Sarah?

* * *

The black clad figure stood before her, just as he had in her vision, silhouetted by the moon. She stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity, fear and uncertainty gripping her heart. There was a feeling building inside her, as though the invisible river she had sensed earlier were threatening to carry her off. She held firmly to the bedpost, watching him and feeling his eyes upon her. She had forgotten about Sarah, forgotten about her father who she was sure was waiting for her just outside the room. For the time being, no one else existed in the universe but herself and the Goblin King.

Finally, her curiosity won out over her fear, and she moved closer to him. As he came better into view, the magnificence of him made her long to reach out for him, but she held her ground. "You're really here." She said, ashamed at how childish her voice sounded to her own ears. "I almost doubted that you were real, but here you are." She moved closer still, but stopped when he seemed to gasp at the visage she presented. She paused, momentarily, waiting for him to speak. When he did not answer, she renewed her approach, inspecting the man who had stepped out of her vision.

He was as beautiful as she remembered, and as terrifying. Time had done nothing to temper his majesty. A closer look at his face showed her that things had changed, however. She knew nothing of the man before her, nothing of his life or his people. But somehow, instinctually she knew that he was older than time itself, and that his kind did not show age as humans did. Still, his face was older, much older than she knew it should be. While in her visions he had seemed a man in his thirties, if she saw him walking down the street she would swear he was in his fifties at least. It was intuition that told her this aging was unnatural, and her heart ached for him. Sarah's sadness had taken her life relatively quickly, his was draining it from him a little at a time.

"Why have you called me here, Rose." His voice was as she remembered, but his words took her aback.

"How do you know my name?" She asked.

"It was my mother's name." he told her. Her mind reeled. His answer made no sense, and yet a part of her responded to the words as though they were the most natural answer he could have given.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "No, it was my grandmother's name." she told him.

"That's what I.." he began, and in her mind she knew what he was going to say, knew it and suddenly understood what he truly meant. Before she could respond he continued. "You mean your father's mother's name was Rose?"

Rose shook her head again, this time trying to restore her own sanity. What she was thinking couldn't be true. It wasn't possible. "No, my maternal grandmother was Rose." She answered.

He took a step toward her, and for a moment she was afraid he would grab her. He growled, and she shrunk away from him, momentarily terrified once more. The look on his face told her he hadn't meant to frighten her, but when he spoke again his voice was demanding. "Tell me your mother's name, child."

Her eyes were wide as she answered. "My mother was Christine Williams, sir." She told him, and knowing as she knew her own birthday what he would ask next she continued, "My father is Toby Williams."

The Goblin Kind stood perfectly still, staring at her through hooded eyes. Then he began to laugh, a humorless sound that spoke of intense loneliness. The sound of laughter when there is no one else to get the joke.

* * *

"Can it truly be?" his question seemed to be directed at something unseen. He raised his arms above his head in helpless frustration, and lightning crashed outside the window. He clenched his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to regain his composure. Finally, his original purpose for coming forgotten, he asked the question that was burning his mind. "And where, young Rose, is your Aunt Sarah?"

Before Rose could answer, the spirit he had sensed spoke at last. "I'm here, Jareth." The Goblin King spun on his heel, coming face to face with the spirit of the woman he had longed to hold for three decades. His heart, already broken, shattered into a thousand pieces as he gazed upon her ghostly form.

"Sarah." The word was a moan, a broken heart made audible. "Oh, Sarah, what has happened to you?" He reached with gloved fingers to stroke her face, clenching his fist in anger as his hand passed right through her. Sarah did not speak, but raised her wrists toward him. Once again the ugly red gashes appeared, and the Goblin King let out a mournful sob. "Oh no, no…" his words were cut off by his own tears, and he fell slowly to his knees weeping bitterly.

Sarah stretched out her pale form and ran her fingers through his fine blond hair. He looked up at her, leaning into her frigid touch. "You are the spirit that haunts this place." He said. "It was you that Rose wished away."

Sarah nodded. "Only because I knew her wish would bring you here, and I have waited more than thirty years to see you again."

"In this place?" Jareth asked. "You have been here, alone, all this time? Why did you not cross over?"

"I couldn't." She answered. "Not until I found you again. And that took time." With these words she glanced toward Rose, and Jareth's eyes followed, nodding as understanding sank in.

"I'm here now, love." He said, turning his gaze back to Sarah. She put her finger under his chin, lifting his face so that she could see it fully. Her heart ached at the change in his timeless features.

"Oh, Jareth, look what I've done to you." She whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you. I was just a silly child, I didn't know what I was doing. I'm so sorry." Her eyes sparkled with ghostly tears, but he shook his head.

"No, love, the fault was mine, and mine alone." He told her, his own tears returning.

"I said the words, Jareth." She said, kneeling now to face him. "I banished you from my life, I destroyed our destiny."

Jareth wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything was okay, but he could not touch her. His heart ached at the sadness in her eyes. Was it possible that she had suffered more than he all these years? The thought was unbearable. "No, Sarah. It wasn't your fault." He raised his hand and produced a crystal. Rolling it across his fingers, he flattened his palm and the crystal became a small red book, the word "Labyrinth" written across its cover in gilded letters. "I gave you the words." He whispered, and suddenly her eyes shone with understanding. He released the book into the air. "Can you ever forgive me?" He asked, his voice a strange mixture of loneliness and hope.

Sarah smiled softly. "I've waited all these years to ask you the same question." She said.

Jareth tilted his head. "Oh Sarah…." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I stopped being angry with you along time ago. It's myself I can't forgive."

Sarah touched him gently on the cheek, and he opened his eyes at the coolness of her unearthly touch. "You must forgive yourself, Jareth. I can't pass over until I know you are at peace."

Jareth shook his head. "There is no peace without you, Sarah. You are all I have ever wanted." He stood, a sudden determined smile gracing his lips.

"What are you saying, Jareth?" Sarah asked, her voice laced with fear.

Jareth caressed the place where her cheek would be, smiling softly. "Let us cross over together, Sarah. The way it was meant to be."

Sarah stood quickly, her pale face made even more so by her fear. "No, Jareth! You cannot! I should never have taken my own life…" before she could finish Jareth interrupted.

"Many things were done, love, that should never have been." He said. "But do not fear for me. My kind live or die at our own choosing. It is our will that keeps us alive in this world, and our will that moves us on to the next." He met her eyes, and when he spoke next each word was slow and deliberate. "I _choose_ to be with you."

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A/N: Okay, okay, I know I said this was the last chapter, but it was running really long so I thought I should break it up. The next one is the last, I promise. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Please leave me some more. 


	6. A Sort of Homecoming

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Labyrinth. However, I do claim Rose.

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He was somewhere very strange, somewhere that tugged at the farthest reaches of his memory. All around him, he was surrounded by dancing, playful creatures the likes of which would never be seen on Animal Planet..

Far from fearful, he was filled with a childish joy he could barely remember. He had had this dream before, and he knew that if he turned around, he would come face to face with a pair of laughing mismatched eyes and a reassuring smile.

It was an old dream, one that predated all of the pain and heartache that had since become the theme of his relatively young life. He had had it often when he was a child, several times after Sarah's death, here and there while he was growing up. If he really stopped to think about it, he would say the dream had come to him every time life became more than he could bear, though why he could not say.

Even in his dream state, he was lucid enough to realized that the day's events had likely brought the dream on, and he was aware that if he was dreaming he must surely be asleep, and he could not afford to sleep now. With an effort he pulled away from the mysterious but calming presence of the man with the mismatched eyes. The voice of the creatures cried out in protest as he drew himself from their circle. They wanted him to stay. Truthfully, he wanted to stay too.

He was happy here.

Reality was harsh and cruel. With a gasp, Toby's eyes opened and he found himself huddled on the floor outside of Sarah's room. It was pitch black, and he wondered how long he had been asleep. The unearthly quiet on the other side of the door unnerved him, and he stood to find the light switch. Despite the darkness and twenty years away, his hand found the switch with practiced ease, yet when he flipped it there was no response. He tried again, with the same result, and panic overtook him.

He turned quickly, blood rushing in his ears, and took hold of the doorknob that would take him into Sarah's room. Before he could turn it, the soft sound of voices came to him from the other side. As he listened, he realized that one was male, one was female, and neither of them was Rose's. Something about this unnerved him more than anything else he had seen tonight, and goose flesh crept over his arms and back. He hesitated only briefly, remembering the last time he had entered this room uninvited, but he pushed away the thought and threw the door open quickly, his heart pounding.

For a split second, less than a heartbeat really, his worried eyes saw that which he most feared. A body lay still on the floor, its lifeless form soaked in blood. Hair cascaded over its pale shoulders, but instead of ebony the locks were purest auburn. He took a faltering step into the room and the nightmare vision faded. He closed his eyes against the darkness that threatened to overtake him, and when he opened them again three figures stood before him, one flesh and blood, one ghostly, and one frighteningly pale form that seemed to be caught somewhere between.

He walked determinedly towards the figures, but Rose met him, smiling at him gently, her eyes wet with tears. She put a finger to her lips then, and gestured toward the other two. His eyes followed the gesture, falling on Sarah's ethereal form. He felt tears rising in his own eyes. Her beautiful face, a face that had always been sad, even when she smiled, now wore a look of purest joy. He wanted to go to her, but Rose shook her head.

His gaze then moved to Sarah's companion, and he truly saw him for the first time. The stranger's eyes never left Sarah's face, but even so there was no mistaking them. A memory made its way to the surface of his mind, mixed with flashes of his dream and…something else:

_He's a lively little chap; I think I'll call him Jareth._

"Jareth…" Toby whispered, as the name dredged up long buried memories of childish happiness. At the sound of his name, the Goblin King looked up, acknowledging Toby with a warm smile tinged with sadness.

"Ah, little Toby, is it? I should say thank you while I have this chance." The Goblin King said cryptically.

"For what?" Toby asked, wondering if he had gone insane. Was he really standing in his parent's house, seeing the ghost of his dead sister, and holding a conversation with the mystical dream of childhood legends?

"For being what I could not." Jareth answered, giving a slight inclination of his head.

Toby would have asked for further explanation, but Jareth had turned away, his attention now completely focused on Sarah, whose unearthly eyes had never strayed from the Goblin King's face. "My Sarah…" Jareth whispered, his voice a prayer. "Together at last.

Sarah met his gaze with sparkling eyes. "Are you sure this is what you truly want, my heart?" She asked him.

"To be with you for eternity?" he countered. "Sarah, that is all I've ever wanted." He told her sincerely. He stretched out his hand again toward her cheek, but this time as he did so his fingers began to sparkle. A shimmering force took hold of him, starting at his fingertips and working its way down his arms, while a beam of pure light shone from the place it had just left. The shimmer became brighter, faster, accompanied by the faint sound of a thousand children whispering at once. Soon the light enveloped the whole of his body, whipping around him at whirlwind speed. It was so bright that Toby and Rose had to shield their mortal eyes or be blinded. As the glare began to fade Rose dared a glimpse in time to see the shimmering lights disappear into the heavens, leaving behind a pale vision where the Goblin King had stood. As the light faded completely, Rose heard the chink of something metallic hitting the floor, but paid no mind.

Before her stood a ghostly replica of the Goblin King she had seen in her visions. The age and sadness had been washed away, replaced by the strength and vitality of days gone by. He stretched out his ghostly arm and this time was able to touch Sarah as though both of them were solid. With a triumphant and somewhat arrogant smile, he captured her lips with his own. Taking no heed of the observers in the room, he bathed her mouth with long denied passion.

Rose felt her heart swell with joy for Sarah and Jareth, who were finally together after so many years of lonliness. Yet she could not deny the overwhelming sadness at knowing such a majestic being had passed from the world. She felt the tears raining from her cheeks as she both celebrated a love that had survived so much, and mourned for all that should have been.

A sob escaped her lips, and was joined by the sound of a hundred keening wails. The goblins, sensing the sudden passage of their master from the world of the living, had returned to join Rose in her mourning. She looked around her, as dozens of little armored bodies filled the room, each of them sobbing and clutching at each other for comfort.

With obvious regret, Jareth's ghostly form tore himself from Sarah's embrace. "What's this?" he asked, hands on hips, addressing his former subjects. "Goblins do not cry." He reprimanded.

Despite his assurances to the contrary, the goblins continued to wail, and Rose found them both humorous and heartbreaking. One of the taller goblins bent to pick up a metal object that lay glistening on the floor, and Rose recognized it as the half moon medallion that had been around the Goblin King's neck. The little goblin held it out before him, offering it up to Jareth like a sacrificial object.

"Please, sire." The little goblin begged. "Who will take care of us now?"

Jareth frowned, and ran his fingers over his chin as though deep in thought. Then he squatted among the goblins, his mismatched eyes twinkling fiercely. "Do you see that lovely young lady there?" he said, gesturing toward Rose, a half grin on his face. "That trinket belongs to her now, and she will take care of you."

Rose's eyes grew wide. "What? Me?" she said, shaking her head in disbelief as the medallion was pressed into her trembling hand. "I'm no queen!" She protested. "I'm only seventeen, for heaven's sake!"

"Nevertheless, Rose." Sarah said, moving toward her niece and stroking her face lovingly. "You are the heir to the Goblin Kingdom. It is your destiny to sit upon the throne. Weather you choose to follow that destiny is up to you."

Understanding of all that Sarah had been trying to tell her finally set in, and for a moment she felt lightheaded. She glanced at the father, who seemed oddly at ease with the situation. He shrugged his shoulders; no help there.

Then she looked back to Sarah, and to Jareth who had taken his place behind her, his arms wrapped around her possessively. "Whatever you choose, Rose, know that we will forever be grateful to you. You have saved us both. I only wish things could have been different." Sarah said, a touch of sadness in her voice.

Rose smiled, her thoughts running wildly. "If things had been different, if they had been the way they were meant to be, you wouldn't have been my aunt, would you?" she asked.

Sarah glanced at Toby and then back to Rose, regarding her curiously before she spoke. "No, I wouldn't." she confirmed.

Rose nodded. "Then I should thank you." She stated. "I loved my mother very much."

Sarah smiled, taking Jareth's hand. "Then perhaps some good did come from my foolishness after all." She said, laying a kiss on Rose's cheek that left it tingling in her wake.

Jareth stepped forward, placing a ghostly hand on each of her shoulders. "You may choose to wear the amulet or not, little one. But do not throw away your destiny lightly." He said, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Turning to Toby he said "Whatever she chooses, please continue to watch out for her as well as you have thus far."

Toby smiled, confused but flattered. "What are fathers for?" he said brightly, putting his arm around Rose's shoulders. Jareth looked at them for a long moment, and though Toby's words had brought a touch of sadness back to Jareth's eyes, it disappeared instantly when he faced Sarah once more.

"Shall we, love?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Sarah smiled contentedly as she linked her arm in his. A bright light appeared, enveloping the windows and then the whole of the far wall. "Is that where we're going?" she asked.

Jareth pulled her to face him and touched his forehead to hers, a playful smile at his lips. "First star to the right, and straight on 'til morning." He whispered.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder one more time. "Goodbye, Rose. Goodbye Toby." She called. "Don't forget us, okay? And Rose? Whatever happens, don't let anything take away your fire." With that she and Jareth stepped into the light, which disappeared behind them leaving the room in darkness. There was a momentary silence, followed by the wailing cries of dozens of mournful goblins. And in the middle of them all, Rose collapsed to the floor and wept, clutching the silver amulet to her chest. Every loss, every heartbreak, every pain she had ever suffered came back to her in that one searing moment. She had never felt so utterly alone in all her life.

Then her father was there, gathering her into his arms like a child, as she cried the way only a child can. He held her, stroking her hear and whispering soothing words until her grief subsided, and she looked up at him with tearful, questioning eyes. "I don't know what to do, Daddy." She said, wiping her face with her fingers.

"Sweetheart." He told her, "I don't pretend to understand what happened here tonight. But I do know that I believe in destiny, and I always knew you were destined for great things." He lifted the medallion that was twined in her fingers. "Though I guess I never knew how great." He smiled.

"I'm afraid." She admitted softly, not wanting the goblins to hear her.

Toby gestured around her. "And so are they, pumpkin. But they have no one to comfort them. They need you."

"And I need you." She said, clutching him tighter.

"And I'll always be here for you, Rosey, no matter what you decide." She nodded as he said these words, wiping the last of the tears away as she stood up tall and proud. For the fourth time that night she had the feeling of being pulled by an unseen force, guided down a dimly lit path towards an uncertain future. With trembling fingers she lifted the medallion, pausing to admire the glint of the moonlight against the metal, then slipped it unceremoniously over her head. At first nothing happened, only a deafening quiet as all of the goblins stopped their crying to stare at her. Then the whispers began anew, just as when Jareth had relinquished his flesh and blood body. Suddenly afraid, she reached for her father, but met instead dozens of tiny hands reaching to steady her.

Her vision was filled with blinding light, and she was overcome by the sensation of being set ablaze with cold fire. Her feet were lifted from the ground, as she hovered momentarily between time and space as her mortality was ripped away.

She was becoming the Goblin Queen.

She was surrounded by light and peace. As her vision cleared, she saw Jareth and Sarah once again, smiling warmly in their approval. Her grandparents were there as well, their faces warm and loving. Between them stood her mother, who simply radiated her love in a wave of warmth that enveloped her daughter. In her arms she held a tiny baby, and the sight of them this way brought a sense of peace to Rose she had never hoped to find. She longed to reach for them, but Jareth shook his head. "Not yet, Rosebud. You still have much to do."

As quickly as the vision came it disappeared, the light faded to a luminous glow that Rose realized was coming from her own body. The goblins fell to their knees, bowing low before their new queen. Rose turned toward the mirror, hoping to see herself there, to put a face on the changes she felt. Instead, the image was of an unending maze, winding across the horizon, and rising from its center a castle of unmatched beauty.

"What is this place?" She sighed.

"_The Labyrinth."_ Toby breathed. Even after everything he had seen, everything that had just happened, he still couldn't believe it was real.

"The Labyrinth." Rose repeated reverently, as the visions Sarah had given her came flashing back to her mind. "Of course. My home." And without hesitation she stepped forward through the mirror, into her destiny.

Toby followed quickly behind her, as the goblins disappeared to welcome their Queen to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. As the last of them disappeared, the room was left still and quiet, and the old house was finally, completely empty as the last of its occupants found their way home.

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A/N: Well, that's it. I really hope you enjoyed it. Kind of bittersweet, but how happily could this have really ended? A cookie to anyone who can tell me where the title of this story came from. (It has nothing to do with David Bowie, alas, though it is a musical reference.) Please let me know what you thought of my little fic, your reviews make my life worth living.

Thank you all for reading.

M.


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